Flowers
by Lilliana Greenleaf
Summary: A one shot with Draco Malfoy and an OC. (Being turned into a story)
1. Flowers

Rosalie was, in the opinion of many, the most interesting Slytherin one could ever meet. Of course, she belonged in Slytherin; she was arrogant, clever, cunning, witty, and perhaps she was a little sadistic, but what surprised most was that she was fiercely protective of anyone that she deemed unfit to protect themselves. For example, Neville Longbottom.

There was no doubt that Rosalie had a soft spot for the surprisingly handsome sixth year Gryffindor, because she defended him from the littlest things. She never let anyone bully him when she was around, not even Snape, and though she didn't like the slimy creature, she sometimes would look after his toad if he asked.

Another example would be Rosalie's cat, Anders. The wily Persian longhair was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, as well as making others wonder what had happened to their various small articles that he hoarded in a small cubby in the dungeon, but Rosalie pampered him anyway, brushing his golden fur three times a day at least.

Rosalie protected various others from various houses whether they liked it or not, but the one that was the most adverse to it was Draco Malfoy. Yes, Rosalie had decided that Draco Malfoy was not capable of defending himself from the dangers of the world, and he didn't like it one bit.

Draco often found himself feeling confused when he was around her. At first, he thought he hated her because he thought she looked down on him, but that soon changed every time he found her pretty emerald eyes looking into his own steely grey orbs and felt like his chest might burst. He felt dizzy whenever she moved in such a way that her burgundy red-orange curls bounced over her shoulders. He got tunnel vision every time he saw her in the stands from the Quidditch Pitch with the sun shining on her ivory skin. And the night of the Yule ball when the Tri-Wizard Tournament was held, she wore a black dress that hugged her figure in a way that he thought should have been illegal. He had wanted to rip it off of her, but he wasn't sure what he would have done after that. And her accent, that wonderful Scottish accent, was absolutely sinful.

He also liked to count the freckles across her nose. In the evenings when they sat in the common room, she would get lost in her book and he would count her freckles by the firelight. He never came up with a set number. He wasn't sure he wanted to, because then what would be the point of counting? He always missed a few, or she would move so he could start over; any excuse to stare at her. Draco didn't know it, but he was in love.

When he started seeing Pansy, it felt wrong, and the way Rosalie distanced herself seemed even more wrong. She spent less time with him and more time with Neville or her cat, and she didn't spend as many evenings sitting by the fire. Of course, Pansy wouldn't understand if she saw him staring at her to count her freckles. No one would understand, so he had no choice. He always had no choice. He couldn't go on like this.

Draco stopped talking to Rosalie. His heart ached every time he saw her, and she still protected him from a distance, but he avoided conversation. Whenever he was about to give in and talk to her, Pansy would show up and hug his arm, cooing at him and asking him who he thought was the prettiest girl in the world. Draco always answered "you, of course, Pansy," but it was a lie. He thought Rosalie was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, even when put up against a unicorn.

One night, Draco found himself by the fire, alone, staring blankly at the seat where Rosalie usually read. His chest ached and his eyes felt hot; what was wrong with him? He hugged himself, blinking a few times. There was water on his cheeks suddenly, and he realized he was crying. It was late at night, so he doubted anyone would see, but still, he didn't like to cry. A soft sob escaped him, and he rested his face in his hands. He wanted Rosalie, more than anything, he just wanted to sit and count her freckles.

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when small hands rested on his shoulders, but he didn't reveal his face. "Go away, Pansy. I'm not in the mood." He mentally cursed himself for his shaking voice. But the voice that answered him wasn't Pansy. "Och, now what's got you in a mood?" It was soft, but it still had that rough ring to it.

Rosalie.

Draco looked up, not bothering to hide his tears. There she was, the flickering light of the fire making her features dance. She had a look of motherly concern. Draco had never been happier to see anyone, but he remembered, they weren't supposed to be close to each other.

"Now, Draco," he loved the way she said his name. She moved around the chair and knelt in front of him, drying his eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. "It's goin t' be alright." He loved her accent. "I'm here now. Nothin's gonna hurt you, darling." He loved her. He finally realized it, he loved her. He reached out to her, taking her face in his hands. "Rosalie," his voice was raspy, but she didn't seem to care. She gave him a tender look. "Draco, don't do anything rash." She was warning him.

He kissed her anyway.


	2. AN

Hi everyone, I was wondering if I should turn this one shot into a story. What do you think?


	3. Gauntlet

_"This can't happen, Draco, it just can't!"_

 _"Why?! I love you!"_

 _"Don't say that, don't make it harder than it has to be."_

 _"Why can't you love me too?"_

 _"I don't have a choice!"_

 _"I've never had a choice, in anything! Now, the one time I can choose, I still can't have what I need. Please."_

 _"Goodbye."_

* * *

Draco opened his eyes to the sunlight filtering through a gap in his curtain, right into his eyes. Despite the rudeness of the offending beam, he woke with an insuppressible streak of joy. At first, he couldn't remember why, but then it hit him. He had kissed Rosalie. He had kissed Rosalie, and though it was short, he was pretty sure she had kissed him back.

He had run to his bed right after in embarrassment, but that was beside the point. He sat up in bed, stretching and grinning, then noticed that everyone was avoiding his gaze. That was normal, but them sneaking looks when they thought he wasn't looking was unusual. He stood and dressed, tying his tie for the day. It was going to be a good day.

"Oi," he caught Crabbe going down to the common room. "What's gotten into everyone? Why are they all acting strange?" Crabbe looked away, shifting uneasily. "Erm, well, you see-" "Spit it out!" Crabbe looked over his shoulder, then leaned in to whisper, "you were talking in your sleep. About Rosalie." Crabbe's cheeks were red. "You said some interesting things." Draco took a moment to absorb this.

"Oi, Malfoy!" A Slytherin slapped his back as he passed him in the stairwell. "If I had half as good a time as you were in that dream of yours last night, I'd be set for life! And with the fiery rose, too!" Draco was mortified. Exactly what had he said? He couldn't remember any dream. Draco turned to Crabbe again, who shrank under his gaze. "make sure no one else finds out about this." Crabbe nodded quickly and went off to do his bidding.

Draco took a moment to steel himself and hoped that no one would tell Pansy. He doubted anyone would, but he was still uneasy. He didn't even want to think of the possibility of anyone telling Rosalie.

He decided to distract himself, so he thought about the Quidditch match against Gryffindor in a few days as he headed down to the common room. He was determined to win, especially since he had heard that the idiot Weasley boy, Ron, had been doing pretty horrible in practice as of late. He had his confident demeanour back by the time he entered the common room.

"Good morning, Draco!" Pansy instantly clung to his arm. "Sleep well?" "Oh he did, slept just fine!" Draco heard a shout and shot a whithering glare. "I slept fine, and you?" "Just fine!" He could barely focus on their conversation as they walked to breakfast. Guilt began to wash over him as he sat down, listening to her talk over breakfast. He did like Pansy, and he felt bad that he had kissed Rosalie, but Pansy was no Rosalie. If anything, she was a distraction, because Draco's father didn't like Scotsman (or women) very much, but he liked Pansy's family.

Draco finished his breakfast and stood. "I have to go to class now. Have a good day, Pansy." Draco ignored some snickers from around the table. He actually had an hour before class started. He left with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. As he walked down the hall, he passed a window to a courtyard. He paused when he saw a streak of familiar red-burgundy. _Rosalie._ "Go on without me, you two. I'll catch up." Goyle gave him a look, but Crabbe pulled him along.

Draco opened the window, seeing as the door was on the other side of the courtyard, and leaned out. He heard a delighted laugh, accompanied by a softer, shyer laugh. "Neville, that toad is more trouble than he's worth." Draco was struck by a flash of jealousy. She was with Neville? She always had a soft spot for him, and Draco didn't like it.

He hopped out the window, peering around the great conifer tree to see what they were doing. It appeared that they had taken some food from the dining hall and were havin a breakfast picnic. It was simple, just some fruits and sausages, but they were clearly delighted. Draco was incredibly jealous. That blasted toad was hopping around being chased by Rosalie's cat. The cat wasn't hurting it, just harrassing it.

However, Draco wasn't worried about the cat. He didn't like the way Neville openly stared at Rosalie with that stupid smile on his face. Neville had grown fron the awkward boy he was into a handsome young man, and that caused Draco some concern. Rosalie didn't seem to notice his staring and just went on in conversation about some of the strange things Anders had done.

"Rosie?" Neville interrupted her. Draco's blood boiled at the nickname. "Yes?" Rosalie's attention was on him. She always focused so intently on whomever she was talking to. Neville shifted uneasily. "Christmas is coming up. I know we're on Holiday break with our families, but would you like to come over one day?" Rosalie lit up, "We can have a slumber party!" Neville grinned like he had won the lottery.

Draco decided it was time to intervene. After a brief pause to let their conversation go back to normal so it wouldn't look like he had been eavesdropping, Draco stepped out of the bushes. "Good morning Rosalie. Neville," he tried to keep the venom out of his voice, but Neville was properly intimidated.

"Oh, good morning Draco," damn, he loved the way she said his name. Draco smiled at her, "mind if I join you?" Neville had gone pale. Rosalie pursed her lips, "alright, but you be nice." Draco sat beside her. Neville shifted closer to her on the other side. After a few moments of awkward silence, Rosalie started up small talk again. Anders wandered over and sat in front of Draco, looking up at him with all-knowing eyes. He really was a gorgeous cat.

"I want a scottish fold kitten next," Rosalie said, earning a hiss from Anders. She scooped him up and cuddled him, "of course I still love Anders the most! He could have a friend to carry out shenanigans with!" The cat purred and headbutted her affectionately.

Draco had an idea.

He cleared his throat, "Rosalie, my father is having a gala over break. Would you like to come?" Rosalie tilted her head. "What're ye inviting me for? You know your father doesn't like me very much." Draco shrugged, "he could do with some humility. He may not like you but he wont insult your family to your face. Even he knows that Scottish witches aren't to be trifled with." Rosalie laughed softly, "I'd love to see the look on his face. Alright, I'll go. Just let me know when it is."

Neville cleared his throat. "Rosie, my Gran can make the raspberry chocolate chip cookies you love." Rosalie turned to him. "Really? Fantastic!" She checked her pocket watch. "It's time for class. Come on, we don't want to be late." She packed up the leftovers into a basket. "I have to run these back by the kitchen. I'll see you in class, Neville. Draco, I'll see you in potions!" She hurried off, leaving the two alone in the courtyard.

Draco turned to Neville, who was doing his best to put on a courageous face. Neville trembled and held his toad close to him. "You cant have her. You've already got a ladyfriend, so leave her be. You'll only hurt her." Draco had never seen him so bold. He was almost impressed.

Almost.

"Longbottom, I'm going to be a little selfish here and tell you to go fuck yourself." Draco turned his back. "I'm already closer to her than you'll ever be." "You don't know that, Malfoy!" Neville's fear was replaced by courage. "She may pity you, Malfoy, but she'll never love you, not like this, and with your father, you don't stand a chance." Draco looked over his shoulder. "You say that, but you haven't kissed her, have you?" With that, he left Neville in the courtyard, bewildered and far more determined than he had ever been.

* * *

Alright guys, you wanted this oneshot turned into a story so here you go. Just so you know, I'm starting this at around the 14th chapter of Halfblood Prince (where Ron gets tricked into thinking he's using Felix Felicis for the Quidditch game). Let me know what you think, and feel free to give me suggestions!


End file.
